


Sun and Starlight

by toesohnoes



Category: Iron Fist (TV), Luke Cage (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Defenders - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: Luke knows better than to fall for his best friend. That doesn't stop him from doing it.





	

Tuesday nights are quiet. Hell if Luke knows why. The bad guys are busy at their day jobs and too tired to try ripping up the streets. It means he can settle down, watch a movie, and take a break.

 

It should mean that, anyway.

 

"I'm bored,” Danny sighs from the opposite side of the couch. He's slumped so low that he's practically horizontal, and his hands are folded delicately over his stomach.

 

Luke won't take his eyes from the television. "Thought monks didn't get bored,” he says.

 

"Thought I told you I'm not a monk,” Danny answers.

 

That's true enough, but Luke blanks out every time Danny starts trying to explain his powers. He can't be blamed for it. If Danny starts talking about meditation and chi, Luke ends up thinking about him shirtless, and that's not going to lead anywhere good.

 

“I'm not going anywhere with you tonight. It's quiet. I'm comfy. We're good.”

 

“You're such an old man,” Danny laughs, and Luke really can't argue.

 

*

 

There's a strange dichotomy to Danny that Luke's never quite got used to.

 

It's the unending serenity and peace, the knowledge that all is right with the world and he understands his place in it. Luke used to think that he was at peace with himself; since meeting Danny he's come to understand that he doesn't even compare.

 

But there's another side to Danny, something energetic and manic. It's like he always know that time is running out, a ticking in his ear, so he grabs everything he can while he still has a chance. Luke feels cautious in comparison: more than anything, it makes him feel  _ old,  _ when he knows it's only a matter of years separating the two of them.

 

There are some times more than others that he feels worlds away from the man that has become his closest friend. 

 

*

 

The first time they spar together Luke tells himself he's doing Danny a favour - helping him stay sharp, that's all.

 

It's only when he lands flat on his back, winded and gasping for air, that he starts taking him seriously. Danny is a goofball, a smiling ball of sunshine, but for the first time since they've met Luke is reminded that he's also dangerous.

 

Danny learns quickly that brute strength means nothing against Luke - but he's fast and he's ruthless. He knows exactly how to knock Luke off balance and use his own momentum against him.

 

His heart rate kicks up as Danny knocks him back again, sweeping his feet out from under him and leaving him crashing to the ground. Luke could get to his feet and keep on pushing but there's something special about the sharp, delighted bite of Danny's smile.  He stays on his back and looks up to meet Danny's bright gaze.

 

“You got me,” Luke admits, not trying to shift or even get up.

 

Danny's smiling that smile that leaves all Luke's insides churning - gleeful and sweet and downright beautiful. He'd never say that to Danny's face, of course. The teasing would never end.

 

“I got you,” Danny agrees. He holds his hand out to help Luke up. Luke reaches for it, holds that strong grip, then yanks hard.

 

Danny falls to the ground with a thud like a clatter of bricks. With a tumble of laughter he rolls onto his back at Luke's side. Shoulder to shoulder, Luke feels the heat from Danny's skin, feels the vibration of his amusement right through him. Luke's smile is as natural and easy as the sunlight itself, carefree in a way he associated only with Danny.

 

Danny slaps the back of his hand against Luke's belly so lightly it feels more like a pat. “Fine,” he agrees. “You win.”

 

They lie side by side for a long while.

 

Luke thinks he might be in trouble.

 

*

 

Danny becomes his best friend by default and by accident.

 

They don't work together much at first. Danny fights ninjas and monsters while Luke is busy with his feet on the ground, too mixed up in the crime and bloodshed of his neighbourhood to get involved in the mysticism of Danny's wars. But they're there as backup and support - the cavalry that will always come running.

 

Danny drops in to save him from scientists trying to unwind the mystery of his skin. Luke returns the favour by ripping through a horde of sharp-sworded ninjas when Danny finds himself overwhelmed.

 

When they meet in the middle of the fight, Danny grants him a smile stained with blood. "Guess this means we're even,” he says.

 

They don't stay that way for long.

 

*

 

Luke isn't used to needing or accepting help. He's self-sufficient, always had to be, but tell that to the angel-faced man cooking in his kitchen. Luke crosses his arms over his chest and watches as Danny's hands move gracefully over the chopping board in front of him. There's already a pan bubbling away to his left - and it was the delicious scent of food that brought Luke through to the kitchen in the first place.

 

“You can't break into my place whenever you want,” Luke complains. “Not even to cook me dinner.”

 

“Sure I can,” Danny breezes without looking up. Luke's eyes trace the sharp line of his cheekbones and he wonders what it might feel like to reach out and touch that soft skin with his fingertips.  The image is as strong as reality. He curls his hand into a fist and moves his gaze away. “Besides. I didn't break in. You gave me a key.”

 

“No way I did something that stupid.”

 

“I'm going to pretend that doesn't hurt my feelings.” Danny looks up, his gaze a bright shock of blue that hits Luke in the gut every time. “Seriously, though. You want me to give it back? Not a problem.”

 

Luke knows that that key means something - to Danny, to himself, to what it says about the pair of them. He hasn't had something like this in a very long time - hasn't trusted himself or anyone else enough to allow it. Yet he can't say something like that to Danny. He doesn't have the words to express it.

 

He grunts. Shrugs. “Keep it,” he says like it's no big deal.

 

If there's a warm glow in his stomach from the way that Danny smiles, he knows just how to ignore it.

 

*

 

Luke never used to feel lonely.

 

He's used to being alone and depending on himself; he's used to watching his own back and not trusting anybody else.

 

The feeling of absence is new. When Danny leaves town for a couple of weeks, Luke feels it like never before.

 

He feels the gap on the left hand side of the couch.

 

He feels his empty kitchen, dark and empty.

 

He feels the unprotected space at his side when he's surrounded by enemies. 

 

"Missed me?” Danny asks when he gets home.

 

Luke rolls his eyes and claims he hardly noticed he was gone.

 

*

 

The television is still murmuring to itself,  casting coloured lights across the room, as Danny drops his head onto Luke's shoulder. Luke wraps his arm around Danny and turns the volume down on their movie so that it's nothing but a whisper washing over them. He hardly dares to move.

 

When he turns his head, the wild curls of Danny's hair tickle against his nose. He smells clean and fresh like he's right out of a shower. Luke's eyes close and he breathes in deeply.

 

At his side, Danny is like a furnace, always burning hot. Luke can feel every point of contact between the pair of them, hyper aware of where they're touching. Danny fits perfectly at his side as if he's been resting there for decades, like a married couple fully settled into one another's lives.

 

This is getting dangerous, Luke thinks. Everything about this situation, everything about Danny, it's getting so far out of his control. With Danny sleeping against him, Luke can't imagine doing anything to make him move.

 

*

 

Covered in soot, dirt and sweat, Luke and Danny make it back to Luke's apartment in the small hours of the morning. Clothes are ripped and smoke is fading from the sky on the other side of town. Another mess courtesy of the Avengers. Somewhere out there, Captain America is probably running damage control with dozens of annoyed city officials, like it's somehow the Avengers’ fault that a maniac decided to unleash a troop of superpowered robots into the city. Luke doesn't have the patience for the ass-kissing required. Makes him glad he's not the one having to lead their way out of this mess.

 

Danny kicks his shoes off before Luke has even finished shutting the door. “How can robot slime smell this bad?” Danny asks. "How can robots even have slime? How is this my life?”

 

“I just punch things. Ask Stark the robo-questions,” Luke tells him, just to prompt Danny's disbelieving laugh.

 

"No way. He'd actually try to explain it,” Danny says. He walks further into Luke's apartment. “I really need a shower. That okay?”

 

Luke would answer, but he's a little distracted. At some point while talking, Danny's decided that it's time to pull his shirt off. Luke is left staring at pale skin and firm muscle, along with a black dragon tattoo that draws the eye. He knows that he's seen it before, especially with Danny's inability to keep his damn clothes on, but not recently - not since he's started getting confused around Danny, anyway. It’s the thin taper of Danny’s waist, the pale promise of hips. He has to stop staring.

 

"Luke?”

 

He clears his throat and looks away. “I'll get you a towel,” he says as he forces himself to move.

 

Danny reaches out when he tries to pass him, gently taking hold of Luke's arm. His hand is warm and his grip is firm but gentle and unmoving. With great reluctance, Luke turns to meet his gaze, soft blue and worried. Uninvited images pop into his head. He can see what it would be like to curl his hand around the back of Danny's neck and draw him close. He can even imagine how sweet Danny's lips would taste for that first moment of contact.

 

The image is enough to make him jerk his arm back out of Danny's light grasp. Danny calls his name again but Luke can't look at him again. He won't dare.

 

"Should be plenty of hot water,” he says, as he wonders how easy it is to avoid someone in this tiny apartment.

 

*

 

Luke throws himself into work. He pulls apart drug deals and he steps in front of so many bullets that he's running out of clothes. Night after night he roams the street and lets his eyes burn from a lack of sleep. It feels good. Painful.

 

_ 12 New Messages _

 

His phone shrieks with new notifications whenever he checks on it, but he can't make himself read them. He leaves his phone at home and he walks the streets like that's all he cares about. His neighbourhood, his people, that's what all of this was supposed to be about, back in the beginning. Things changed. With Avengers and aliens and the Accords, everything got way too complicated too fast. He's ended up stuck in the middle.

 

He tells himself he's not thinking about Danny. He's not at risk of ruining everything. He's not imagining things he shouldn't be thinking about, he's not crossing imaginary lines. He tells himself all sorts of things. 

 

He knows he's lying.

 

He strolls into a pit of vipers and tells himself that lying’s not too bad.

 

*

 

He gets away with it for a few weeks. He keeps to himself, avoids his phone, and spends as much time outside of his apartment as he can. It means ignoring the voice whispering in his ear to tell him that he's a coward and an idiot. If he can block that out, maybe he'll be okay.

 

Making his way up the stairs to his apartment feels like climbing a mountain. It's 4am and he's tired right to the bone, something he feels even when he doesn't feel pain.

 

He reaches his floor and hesitates on the landing, wonders if it's too late to retreat without being noticed - because Danny Rand is sitting on his doorstep playing on his phone. He's sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him, his skinny ass jeans looking more ridiculous than ever. With his head bowed down, his hair falls in front of his face. All Luke wants is to push it back and let Danny look up at him from that spot on the ground, his eyes wide and his lips pink and…

 

Fuck, he can't keep thinking like this.

 

“What are you doing here, Rand?” he asks. He hopes his desperation sounds like irritation.

 

Danny gets to his feet, smooth and cat-like with it. That's the way Danny's always looked to Luke: graceful, with something dangerous hidden underneath. Harmless and predatory all in one. 

 

“I don't know what I've done, but I know you're mad at me. That makes me think it must be bad,” Danny says. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and doesn't look at all like a mystical warrior: there's nothing to be afraid of here.  “I'm sorry. Honestly. Completely, stupidly sorry.”

 

Luke looks down at the key in his hands and wonders how the hell he gets out of this one. “You didn't do anything. Just need some space.”

 

He's got to be careful not to look at Danny's face. Those bright blue eyes are kryptonite. “What happened, then?”

 

Luke dodges past Danny to reach his front door. His keys scrape against the lock. It's never this hard to unlock a damn door. He wonders what happened to Danny’s key, why he waited outside instead of letting himself in. Probably making a point, he figures. “Don't worry about it. I'm fine. Need some time alone, that's all.”

 

It's not that easy. It's never that easy.

 

Danny's too close to him, close enough that Luke can smell his expensive cologne and can feel the natural heat of his body. He can  _ feel _ Danny.

 

After that, it's too easy to touch him.

 

“Luke, please -”

 

Danny doesn't get to finish his sentence. Luke's hand finds its way onto the side of Danny's face, cupping his cheek. He loves the way it looks, the startled widening of Danny’s eyes, the question that starts to form on his lips. Luke leans down and closes the space between them to mere inches, then less than that. He closes the gap until he can taste the confusion in Danny’s mouth and feel the breath of wonder he takes when Luke kisses him.

 

Kissing Danny is entirely unlike his daydreams: kissing Danny in reality is like being at the top of a rollercoaster that’s about to break-down. He pulls his friend as close as he can and steals seconds of contact with him. Every moment feels like a heist. Danny is real and solid and fits so neatly against him.

 

It can’t last forever. He knew that. He grants himself a few seconds and then he has to break away, lips tingling, breath catching in his throat.

 

Danny hasn’t moved. Luke doesn’t think he’s even blinked.

 

“There,” Luke says. “That’s the reason I need some space.”

 

He uses Danny’s shock to grab a moment to focus on the key in the lock once more. His lips are still tingling. He can still feel the lithe, firm pressure of Danny's body pressed tight against him.

 

The lock opens with a satisfying thud. "Good night, Danny," he says firmly. He wants to look at him and investigate the emotions on his face; a glance might be enough to let him know how badly he's ruined everything. In the end, he's too much of a coward. He keeps his eyes on the door as he opens it.

 

He wants to slam it shut behind himself, find a bottle, and work out how to get black-out drunk, but he doesn't even make it beyond the threshold before Danny grabs hold of his arm.

 

"You don't get to do that and walk off," Danny says, gripping tightly.

 

Luke thinks about how easily it would be to break his grip, especially when the Iron Fist is dormant. He thinks about it, but then he looks up. Big mistake. Danny's eyes are wide, blue and hurt - that's the worst part. He looks like Luke has done something unforgivable.

 

"Dan," Luke starts, but he doesn't know how to finish.

 

It doesn't matter. Danny is in his space before he has to think of any words, the scent and the heat of his body overwhelming. "Don't you dare shut me out," Danny says. He steps closer to Luke and Luke eases back automatically, taking them across the threshold. Danny's hand on his arm is gentle now, guiding rather than restraining. He's so close that Luke can see the sharp black line of every eyelash.

 

The door closes with a gentle nudge from Danny's foot. They're alone, breathing the same air. Luke's heart hammers and thuds in his chest.

 

"Block me out again, and I'll fight you," Danny warns him. "You're the biggest dumbass I know."

 

Luke doesn't get a chance to defend himself - instead he gets an armful of Danny, hot lips against his mouth, the drag of stubble against his skin. He holds him as close as he dares and feels the power and strength of centuries beneath his palms. Danny kisses him like he's proving a point. He kisses like it's a fight he intends to win.

 

Somehow, Luke really doesn't feel like he's losing.

 

*

 

It doesn't fix everything, of course.

 

Luke learns the taste of Danny's mouth and the hitch of his breath. He memorises the sounds that Danny makes when he's right on the edge and he loses himself in the soft, warm skin of his inner thighs. He discovers that Danny smiles during sex, with sweat-dampened curls hanging in front of his eyes. It's a new library of knowledge, every page lovingly indexed.

 

And they still fight. Luke pulls back when it gets too much, and Danny is there, gentle and unmoving, to call him out on it.

 

He lies in bed, Danny sleeping beside him, and brushes his fingers through Danny's hair. They don't have much luck, either of them, when it comes to family and happiness. Looking at Danny now, it occurs to Luke that he'd pull the world to pieces for him if he had to. He'd fight to the death.

  
It’s been a long, shuffling journey. At the end of it all, he holds his friend close and breathes deep.


End file.
